


i took a wrong step (and fate turned me around)

by xhangemhighx



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Hard of Hearing Zuko, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, M/M, Minor Azula/Mai/Ty Lee, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Partially Deaf Zuko (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar)-centric, zukka - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27605047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xhangemhighx/pseuds/xhangemhighx
Summary: Zuko was born with hearing loss, but nobody seemed to care. Not until he moved in with his uncle and discovered that the world wasn't so cruel after all.A series of short oneshots based on Zuko's life with hearing loss (modern).This is orginally from my tumblr, and it's a WIP.
Relationships: Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 119





	1. Chapter 1

“That’s sugar, not salt!” Zuko heard Sokka yell from the other room.

Zuko looked down at the salt shaker in his hand, labeled with the letter S in bold black Sharpie. He shook a few grains into his hands and licked them. Yep, that was sugar. He’d be having some very sugary french fries tonight.

“Did you put sugar in a salt shaker?” Zuko asked.

Sokka walked into the kitchen “Yeah, I figured it’d be easier to use that.”

Zuko groaned. “You could have at least told me. Now my food is covered in sugar.”

He gestured to the plate of french fries and mac’n’cheese in front of him.

Sokka grabbed a fry from the pile and took a bite. “A lot better than I expected. Better with salt though.”

Zuko ate a fry, then spit it back out. Disgusting. He handed the plate to Sokka.

“Take as many fries as you want.” He said.

Sokka shrugged. “No thanks. Sorry.”

Zuko threw the sugary fries away and walked into the living room. At least his mac’n’cheese was edible.

He sat down on the couch beside Sokka, who was watching How It’s Made. The particular episode was about fireworks - something Zuko hated. They were pretty cool to look at, but the noises they made were deafening, even without his hearing aids in. Even worse, fireworks usually went along with large crowds of people yelling. Not something he wanted to be mixed up in.

Sokka noticed his discomfort and fast forwarded to the next segment, which explained the process of making bassoon reeds. Zuko smiled - he’d played bassoon in high school. It was a loud instrument, easy to hear when Zuko didn’t have his hearing aids in. Definitely beneficial.

Zuko watched the episode, reading subtitles and glancing up at the video every so often. He already knew most of the process.

Zuko laid his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder, careful not to bump his hearing aid and have it scream at him.

The episode ended and Zuko got up. He washed his plate out and left it in the sink. He’d do the dishes tomorrow. Right now, he just wanted to sleep.

Zuko took his hearing aids out and put them in their plastic container, where he always kept them. He turned and followed Sokka to their bedroom. Time to sleep and ignore the hum of the AC.


	2. Chapter 2

Pretty boy.

Disgusting.

Wrong.

And other worse, derogatory names.

They’d known it before he had. He’d dated Mai for the longest time, keeping his eyes on her and trying to be the perfect child. It’d worked for a while, but time was up. Mai was gone and things had changed. Zuko wasn’t prepared. Mai had only meant to help, but in a way, it’d only made things worse.

Zuko didn’t know where to go after school. Last night was a disaster. Yelling, crying, and never being allowed home again. His father had had enough, and Zuko didn’t have anywhere to go. Maybe a last resort would work. 

Zuko ended up on his uncle’s doorstep, a backpack slung over his shoulder and a crumpled up five dollar bill, the remains of what he’d taken from Ozai, in the pocket of his jeans. He raised a fist to the door, hesitating before he quietly knocked a shaking hand on the wood. He pulled his hand away and did it again, with much more force this time.

The door creaked open, revealing a short man with greying hair and an oversized cardigan. His slight smile turned to a worried frown when he saw the tired boy on his doorstep.

“Zuko?” Iroh said, his voice a mix of worry and disbelief. “Is everything alright?”

Zuko took a deep, shuddering breath and lunged forward, wrapping his uncle in a tight hug. Iroh squeezed back as Zuko buried his face in his uncle’s shoulder. Iroh knew not to pressure his nephew, despite only seeing the boy for birthdays. 

“He kicked me out.” Zuko whispered after a few moments of silence, pulling himself away from Iroh.

Iroh frowned. Ozai was an awful person, but he hadn’t expected this. At least Zuko was free now.

“You can stay here,” Iroh offered. His doors would always be open to family and friends - those who were not child abusers, of course.

Zuko nodded and in a soft voice, replied, “I’d like that.”

Iroh pushed the door open behind him and beckoned his nephew inside. Zuko stepped in and was immediately rushed by a cat. A plump Russian Blue rubbed against his leg while two others, a calico and a small black cat, watched him from a distance. 

“That is Chai.” Iroh said, motioning towards the first cat. “The others are Blossom and Jasmine.”

“You named your cats after tea.” Zuko noticed. He wasn’t surprised at all.

He knelt down to pet Chai, who butted his head against Zuko’s hand repeatedly, purring loudly. Zuko smiled. He laid his hand out on the ground as Jasmine, the little black cat, crept forward. She sniffed at Zuko’s hand and stood still as Zuko moved, his hand reaching up to pet her. She too rubbed her head against Zuko and purred like a chainsaw. Zuko liked this new housing arrangement already.

***

When Iroh came home after work a few days later, the first sight of his nephew warmed his heart. The boy was curled up on the bed Iroh had prepared for him, surrounded by cats. They snuggled into his chest, his neck, his legs. If he hadn’t seen Zuko breathing, he would have worried that the thick fur in front of his face would smother him. Iroh chuckled. Though Zuko hadn’t made any human friends yet, the cats loved him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was mainly going to be about Iroh, but I got too deep into writing about cats.


	3. achilles come down

TW: suicide attempt mention + depression

“Zuko?”

A soft voice called to him, over the sounds of cars from the nearby city. He knew that voice well. It’d come to him in dreams, wrapping him up in kind words and endless praise. It promised him hope and love in the highest form. It wasn’t real.

“Your uncle’s worried. I’m worried.”

He’d made them worry. They’d be better off not worrying. They’d be better off without him. He couldn’t count the good things he’d done for them on two hands.

“Please come down.”

Zuko stayed in place. Either the wind would take him, ripping his feet from the edge and sending him down onto the rocks, or he’d stay there for eternity, a living stone. Those feelings of hope that the voice had once given to him no longer mattered. Not when the world kept turning and leaving him behind. Always doomed to be the last, the worst.

“I’m coming up.”

Zuko heard the boy’s ascent, but chose to ignore it, as he’d done the previous attempts. Sure, they cared for him, but should they? His mother had, and nothing good had come out of that. Azula cared, in her own way, but had still played cruel tricks on him. Loving Zuko wasn’t easy.

The boy had reached the roof and was walking towards him, his steps unbearably loud to Zuko despite being so very quiet.

“I know what it’s like. You feel worthless. You feel like you can’t contribute to anything. And that it won’t matter if you’re gone. It will.”

The boy lightly touched Zuko’s shoulder. “It matters to me.”

Zuko grabbed the boy’s wrist, his fingers wrapping around the other boy’s bracelets. “Why?”

“Because it’s you.” Sokka responded. “And you’re… you’re you.”

What was that supposed to mean? Zuko had always loved how Sokka spoke so clearly to him. 

“You’re so good.” Sokka continued. “You care about people but can’t do the same for yourself. You should. Please.”

By the end, Sokka had started to cry. In all the years he’d known Sokka for, he’d never seen him cry. Sokka was always the happy one, cracking jokes and pretending his life wasn’t an awful mess. Zuko was supposed to be the one struggling so badly that his uncle had tried to take him to therapy.

He didn’t want to make Sokka cry. To make someone so untouchable, with emotions so repressed, cry wasn’t Zuko’s favorite accomplishment. Neither was falling in love with Sokka, but that was always inevitable. Sokka had always been there - grounding him and acting as a breathing reminder that he does exist and the world hadn’t completely thrown him under the bus.

Zuko himself began to cry. He pulled Sokka into a hug after stepping off the edge and onto the more solid ground. He cried into Sokka’s shoulder, both of their sobbing blocking out the noise of the rest of the world. 

Zuko broke off the hug, stepping back. He tried to think of what to say next, but his mind was a blank slate. Whenever he needed it, it seemed to shut off. He took a few breaths, then looked at Sokka again.

“You shouldn’t care that much.” Zuko insisted, trying to sound more sure of it than he felt. “You don’t see me like I am.”

“I do,” Sokka argued, his voice cracking. “I really do. Don’t you get it? I love you!”

Zuko’s brain short-circuited. That wasn’t in the expected list of responses. Sokka… loved him? Surely he couldn’t mean like that. 

“Do you really mean it?” Zuko asked hesitantly.

He could think of all the reasons it was wrong to love him, but those didn’t seem to matter now. Against all odds, Sokka loved him. He loved him enough to find him near midnight on a Tuesday night, on the top of an old building, ready to jump. He loved Zuko like the stars loved the moon: keeping it company in the dark sky, brightening the world with their light that always shines. And oh, was Zuko glad to be the moon this time.

Sokka nodded. “All of it.”

Zuko made up his mind. “Take me home.”

He walked towards the ladder and climbed down, waiting for Sokka to follow. Now wasn’t the time for a first kiss or a date and Sokka knew it too. Before the love confession and Sokka’s support, Zuko had planned to throw himself off the building, and that wasn’t a good mental state to be in. And he had to get home before Iroh had a heart attack from stress.

Zuko opened the passenger door of Sokka’s hand-me-down car and climbed in. It smelled faintly of vanilla, from the air freshener he’d given Sokka a while back.

Sokka got in the other side and started the car. The drive to Iroh’s was silent as Zuko stared out the window. The few patches of grass on the side of the road reminded him of a game he’d played as a child. Follow the grass with your eyes, try to skip the ground between patches and shiver in disgust when you don’t. This game wasn’t of too much importance, but it reminded Zuko of his childhood, how different and yet similar it had been. It was much better now, but some things never change.

Sokka pulled into Iroh’s driveway.

“You want me to come in?” Sokka asked.

In the light of the streetlamps coming from outside, Zuko finally noticed the bags under Sokka’s eyes. He’d gotten out of bed for this and lost sleep he needed. It was better for him to go home.

Zuko shook his head. “No. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

Zuko opened the door and took a step outside. “And Sokka? I love you too.”

Zuko opened the front door and walked straight into Iroh’s waiting arms. Iroh hugged him tightly, showing if he could, he’d never let his nephew go. 

“Sit,” Iroh ordered after letting Zuko go.

Zuko sat down in a kitchen chair and took the jasmine tea his uncle held out for him. He sipped at it while petting Chai, the fat, elderly cat that was rubbing against his leg.

“Are you okay?” Iroh asked him, holding his own cup of tea.

After a moment of consideration, Zuko nodded. He was fine now, he wouldn’t do it again.

“Hey uncle?” Zuko began.

“Yes, Zuko?” Iroh replied.

“I’d like to go see that therapist you were talking about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I make this one just to use this song title? Yes, yes I did.


End file.
